On the Alberta/Montana Border: Monsters

My childhood monsters used to park

With slavering fang, there in the dark,

And if I carelessly did step,

They’d jump at me. Like Imhotep.

(I’d no idea what he was,

But he scared me—like Santa Claus!)

As I got older, my mind grew,

And conjured terrors not a few,

Ghosts and cyclops, dragons, trolls,

Zombies, werewolves, vampires, ghouls,

Or the things that scared me most,

(Our country home seemed glad to host,)

Those creepy, leggy, furry bugs,

That spun their webs to give flies hugs.

These fears that lasted all my life

And made my nights with danger rife

Have been supplanted recently

By something scarier, to me.

And what, you ask could possibly

Be worse than what I do not see?

Things that, though they do not leap,

Excel at making me lose sleep?

Why, those who stand and promise me

A vote for them will set me free.

Ensure my life will be a joy,

And nothing ‘bad’ will e’er annoy,

Do I believe them? Not one bit,

I mostly want to pitch a fit

Each time I see another one,

Who pledges only days with sun.

You know I think that, really, I

Would go back to those other guys,

The ones that lingered out of sight,

And pounced whene’er we doused the lights.

Their fangs were scary. They looked mean,

(I think. If I had ever seen!)

They could not possibly be like

Those scary ones there—At The Mic.

Photo Credit: Karen of bakinginatornado.com

Cause Mondays do get knocked a lot,
With poetry, we all besought
To try to make the week begin
With gentle thoughts,
Perhaps a grin?
So Karen, Charlotte, Mimi, me
Have crafted poems for you to see.
And now you’ve read what we have wrought…
Did we help?
Or did we not?